Response 6: Beyond Desert Walls

I have to admit that I struggled with Beyond Desert Walls. This was largely due to aspects of Lamberton's persona that bothered me. I think this book presents a unique set of challenges because the author is a convicted criminal. As a reader, I found myself grappling with his criminal actions throughout the text, even though they were not always addressed directly. In this way, I'm sure the book reflected his state of mind while he was writing: struggling with his crime in indirect ways. I was glad that Lamberton addressed his reasons for being in prison in the introduction because otherwise that would have been on my mind the whole time. So, instead of wondering what crime he committed, I found myself focusing more on how he was dealing with it.

The premise – nature essays written from prison – immediately intrigued me, but it didn't really play out like my preconceptions thought it would. Before reading, I think I was envisioning essays written about the view of the landscape from a narrow window, or perhaps memories of time spent in nature. While both of those elements played large roles in the text, I didn't understand how integral Lamberton's prison mentality would be. Lamberton’s personality, especially his flaws and struggles, is so tied up with the essays in this book. The desert landscape acts like a movie screen onto which he projects his internal world of thoughts and feelings. This was an aspect of the book that I thought Lamberton rendered quite elegantly.

But at times the book felt so self-absorbed and self-critical that it was difficult to take. After thinking about it more, I suppose this is part of the point of the book. Sprung from the mind and heart of a prisoner, his tortured mental state is clear on every page, in very subtle ways. It is so subtle that I'm not sure if it was intentional or just unavoidable. I found this effect to be much more poignant than his projection of his inner feelings onto the landscape. I thought this was most apparent in the way he focused on mishaps created by his machismo – which seems clearly related to his affair and eventual capture.

Unfortunately Lamberton's personality, in the way he portrayed himself, really put me off at times. All of the showboating with the snakes, needless risks from spider bites – this type of thing irritated me. His machismo affected my ability to appreciate his stories and maybe that is my own shortcoming. When a narrator presents himself honestly, with all his flaws, shouldn’t that make him more trustworthy? Shouldn't I be more understanding and forgiving as a reader? I was surprised to find myself condemning him at times much like the justice system had.

Lamberton's rendering of Karen also bothered me. Poor Karen, I thought more than once. She not only put up with the affair and his prison term and spent years trying to win his release, but she also endured the public sharing of the story in his writing, with her as a main character. Lamberton often voiced Karen's thoughts and feelings, and it was unclear to me how much of this was coming from her and how much was his own opinion. Over and over again he emphasized her need for control and psychologized her in a way that seemed heavy-handed. I would like to hear her side of the stories.

Throughout the book I asked myself how much of my distrust and negative reaction to Lamberton was the result of my opinion about his crime. I tried to be open-minded about his affair but I’ve also been a fourteen-year-old girl, and I know the vulnerability of that age. I think part of me is angry at Lamberton for abusing his power with that girl. I know fourteen-year-old girls can be devious and powerful in their own way, but still. He suffered greatly during his twelve years in jail and I appreciate his attempt at finding redemption as well as the role that writing played in this attempt.

As I thought further about my negative reaction to Lamberton-as-character, I realized that it might have less to do with my contempt for his crime and more to do with the fact that he wrote "to unwittingly punish" himself (xvii). I think this self-punishment emerges as brutal honesty about his own flaws and shortcomings, and that this is tough and disturbing for a reader to handle. Writing teachers always say you have to love your characters if you want others to love them. In this case, I'm not sure if Lamberton loves his character, and perhaps that's why I found it hard to. I eventually came to accept him, grudgingly, and to appreciate his struggle and respect his way of trying to cope with it. If I struggled this much as a reader I can only imagine how Lamberton struggles to accept himself. This tension is what gave the book its power and uniqueness.